I was playing pool at the local pool hall one night, and ran into a couple of folks I went to school with over 25 years ago. The fact that we ran into each other in a city 200 km's from where we grew up was pretty cool in itself, but the fact that we all recognized each other and there was no awkwardness whatsoever was a whole lot of amazing. It reminded me of the way people 'down home' treat each other and inspired me to pack up my camera and make a visit back to "The 'Bar."
Formally called South Bar, my hometown is a place you've already seen a bit of here and here. On this particular day in August, I decided to start about a mile past the house I had lived in, at Polar Bear Beach.
One used to have to make their way down the side of the cliff of their own volition. Granted, it used to be substantially easier (or I was substantially younger and less aware of the difficulty). As the years went by, the cliffs eroded and someone erected a hand rail to make the descent safer.
The beach itself is small, partially sandy and partially covered with large rocks, rounded and smoothed by decades of Atlantic waves.
Once you're in the water, you're walking between patches of sand, and huge flat expanses of smooth rock. There are rocks for climbing, reefs for diving, and back in the day, some of the braver souls among us even dove from the cliffs into the water below them.
On the surface, there are also all kinds of treasures....
...and somewhere about here, I decided it would be cool to be out on a boat, and see the beach from the other side...
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